The Twilight Obelisk

by Alexey Osadchuk

  The moment players sensed that a commander’s order contradicted their interests, you could forget discipline. Each of them expected a return on what they’d invested in the game. Not necessarily a monetary one: some were after an adrenaline rush while others were looking for cool loot; yet others just needed a break from the real world. And above all this loomed the admins with their Rules and Regulations, of which the most important one was a player’s freedom to do what he wanted to as long as it didn’t hinder the gameplay.

  The boy’s eyes betrayed his incomprehension. Okay, let’s do it again.

  “You see, Tim, the warriors of both Light and Dark are very freedom-loving. They don’t like being told what to do. Not to even mention their great heroes and wizards. No one can make them do something against their will. They can question a commander’s orders or even refuse to obey them.”

  “Uncle Olgerd’s right,” Droy agreed. “I saw it myself. There was that big guy by the River Quiet who was arguing with his own commander like you can’t imagine while his brothers in arms were busy fending our warriors off. He may be a great hero and all that, but I don’t need the likes of them, not when my soldiers’ lives are at stake. If everyone starts questioning my orders in the heat of the battle... oh no, thank you very much! Even though he was a great hero... many a Caltean warrior met their deaths by his terrible mace.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” I added. “A wise commander would know how to talk such divas around but an obedient, well-trained soldier makes up the backbone of a victorious army. And luckily, warriors like that aren’t our enemy’s forte.”

  “What Uncle Olgerd wants to say, son, is that we need to make sure that no one can weed us out of this city at the first try.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “I can bet anything you want that our enemy won’t be able to sustain a lengthy siege.”

  “Good,” Droy said. “Isn’t it time you go to bed, boy? Tomorrow will be a tough day. Go get some sleep. Uncle Olgerd and I will stay here for a while.”

  Tim heaved a sad sigh, rose and went reluctantly back into the tent.

  For a while, we just sat there, thinking each our own thoughts. Finally, Droy broke the silence,

  “Methinks, the first attack will be dreadful,” he said, frowning. “But if we don’t buckle, the rest might be easier. Do you think they might agree to negotiate?”

  “Eventually yes,” I replied. “My granddad fought in a terrible war. He used to say that at first, the enemy wanted to see what we were made of. But if, as you rightly said, we hold our own ground, then they just might negotiate. Because whoever comes here first, their main objective will be to take the city before the next bunch arrives.”

  Droy guffawed. “The Lights battling the Darks under our city walls! Never thought I’d live to see that!”

  I smiled at the idea. “Also, don’t forget the Nocteans prowling around. At the very least, they’ll spoil the visitors’ party.”

  We fell silent. No idea what Droy was thinking of but his face took on a dreamy expression. Me, I couldn’t help contemplating the forces of Light and Dark, imagining them going at each other’s throats by the city gates while we stood leisurely on the walls watching them smoking each other.

  Having said that, “city walls” was an overstatement: we were yet to build them. All in all, I didn’t think Mr. Random would go that far just to accommodate us.

  Oh well. There’s no harm in hoping. Still, we shouldn’t walk with our heads in the clouds, otherwise our return to reality might be a bit traumatic.

  Droy’s voice disturbed my disjointed thoughts,

  “So, how about we start rebuilding the wall tomorrow?”

  “Good idea. I’ve already spoken to the masons. They have some thoughts on the project.”

  “Masons? How many of them are there?”

  “Three, if you only count those who actually know their trade.”

  “That’s not a lot,” Droy said moodily.

  “It’s not. Still, they have an apprentice each. Also, I gave them my permission to look for more assistants.”

  In actual fact, I’d consulted the clan’s stats, then told the masons exactly who they needed to hire.

  Droy shook his head. “Still not enough.”

  “Well,” I shrugged, “we have to work with what we’ve got.”

  “I was told, Pritus was running around the camp like a headless chicken all morning. Did you say something to him?”

  I nodded. “They’ll start building a trebuchet tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s good. It’ll take them some time to build and test it. Then they’ll need to train new operators. And you, what are you going to do?”

  “Well, once I’m finished shooting the breeze with you, I might go out on another recon trip.”

  “You should get some sleep,” Droy made an unenthusiastic attempt to stop me.

  “As my granddad used to say, ‘plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead’.”

  * * *

  The moon was especially bright today, large and full, hanging so low in the sky I could almost touch it. Not a trace of wind or snow. Perfect weather for flying.

  Boris spread his wings wide, soaring on the air currents visible only to him. His ashen gray feathers quivered in the wind, appearing almost silver in the moonlight.

  We’d spent some quality time studying the surrounding area and nearby locations. Not good. Judging by the sheer numbers of Noctean tribes prowling around, human players weren’t our problem. It may have been my imagination but I had a funny feeling that all these creatures had arrived here solely because of us. You never knew with the admins. They seemed to love surprises.

  Having finished my air inspection of the Icy Woods, I told Boris to head for the lands of Light. It was time for me to take an in-depth look at the auctions.

  * * *

  After all the snow, frozen mountains and gloomy forests I desperately needed to get to the sea. I needed a change of scenery, otherwise I might simply go nuts.

  We were flying over the ocean now. The continent was barely discernible on the horizon to our left. To our right lay the boundless expanses of water which I still didn’t have access to. For the moment, I was perfectly happy with this strip of sea offering me some of the most amazing views in Mirror World.

  The ocean was calm today, gentle even. The fresh breeze sprayed me with brine lifted from the countless frothing crests of clear blue waves. So good.

  I could inhale the fresh sea air forever, celebrating the ocean, the warm sun and the clear skies. The place made you feel alive again.

  A small island appeared at a distance: Lone Isle, according to the map. I’d set my sights on it during Boris’ first test flights. At the time, we’d only flown at night, taking every precaution possible — but now that both he and I were bigger and braver, I was dying to see what was there.

  The moment we reached the island’s small but cozy bay, the wind died down as if by magic. The roaring of the surf echoing from the cliffs was the only sound disturbing the surrounding tranquility.

  The flat beach was deserted. No system messages. Peace and quiet everywhere.

  With a crunching of pebbles, Boris landed by the water’s edge. I activated the summoning charm. Prankie jumped down on the sand and immediately headed for a small copse nearby on a makeshift recon mission.

  In the meantime, Boris and I inspected the beach, looking for any footprints. The place was admittedly awesome but you shouldn’t let your guard down.

  Having discovered nothing that could set any alarm bells off, I decided to give myself a well-deserved break. I could use a walk and a sightseeing tour. I needed to unwind.

  According to the map, there was a small lake at the center of the island.

  I patted Boris’ powerful neck. “Let’s walk over there.”

  After having ploughed my way through snowbanks for so long, walking on green grass was a strange albeit pleasant experience. The ground seemed to spring underfoot. I
was so happy to find myself away from the freezing wind and the snow-bound ruins, even if only for a few hours.

  We entered the woods and took a trail uphill toward a rocky plateau. I walked gingerly on the stones overgrown with tufts of low grass, avoiding the gnarly little pine trees that poked out of the undergrowth.

  The trail brought us out onto a tall cliff about sixty foot high which offered a breathtaking view of the sun setting into the sea.

  Finally, I tore my eyes away from the vista and concentrated on the island lying below.

  It was shaped as an irregular ellipse of about 500 acres. Most of its surface was overgrown with pine trees and tufts of grass. Nearby, the lake’s surface glistened in the rays of the setting sun.

  “What a place,” I told my two pets. “It would be so nice to build a house here, don’t you think? My girls would love it.”

  Boris stretched out on the grass and laid his massive head on his front paws, his eyes closed, his wings spread wide, chilling out. He seemed to be loving it.

  Prankie was too busy studying the undergrowth. He didn’t give a damn about me getting all sentimental. He had more important things to do with his time.

  I lingered some more till I’d seen everything I needed to see, then began descending toward the lake.

  It was surprisingly clear. An occasional fish resurfacing for a gulp of air left small circles in the mirrored expanse of the lake. Peace and quiet, indeed.

  “That’s it, I’m gonna build me a house here,” I mumbled, ambling along the water’s edge.

  I walked the entire island in under an hour without coming across a single mob. The lake fish seemed to be the only local dwellers.

  How strange. Then again, not really. The admins had more important things to worry about at the moment than a tiny desert island in the sea. They’d incorporated it and even added some vegetation and animal life to the script, gentrifying it as best they could. And seeing as no player apart from me could yet reach it, they probably decided not to go overboard with the worldbuilding. The island was still a work in progress.

  Which was fine by me. The island had turned out sufficiently lifelike.

  “We really should come back here one day,” I promised myself as I clung to Boris’ broad back, watching Lone Isle disappear on the horizon.

  Where to next?

  The second half of my trip wasn’t as enjoyable as the first one but it wasn’t too bad. About an hour after we’d left Lone Isle we came across another little island, nameless this time. It further confirmed my “work in progress theory”, the only difference being that this isle didn’t have much to show for itself at all. Some gnarly little trees dried out by the sea breeze and a bunch of prickly gray bushes: the island was basically just an ugly rock poking out of the ocean.

  Ah-ha... and this here must have been the cause of the islands’ deserted status. Remember the monstrous fish I’d seen in the river in No-Man’s Lands? It was tiny compared to the monster I was looking at now. It seemed to have been pieced together from several sea dwellers. It had a powerful shark’s body ending in four fins and a long flat eel-like tail. Its head on a long powerful neck resembled that of a crocodile, replete with jaws full of sharp triangular teeth.

  The creature swam unhurriedly, circling the island, then disappeared into the depths, splashing a cascade of spray. It was probably its dinner time.

  Oh well. That was scary.

  Today of all days I felt especially exposed. Judging by Boris’ raised hackles, he too was duly impressed by the encounter.

  * * *

  ...It looks like all the buzz around your name is blowing over. I got the impression I’m not under surveillance anymore. Freakin’ Sherlocks! Still, I’m not in a hurry to get rid of some of the more expensive stock you sent me. Better safe than sorry, if you know what I mean. Those items are quite conspicuous.

  In any case, I’ve already sold all the pettier ones. I think this was the right decision. If you’re reading this letter, you must have already checked the auction. They have everything you need for a DIY Noctean Warrior kit. The fangs, the hide, the clubs. The items dropped by Noctean werewolves are especially sought after. Get my drill? LOL.

  I sent the money to your account. Plus the materials for your insects: the best metals and toxins I could buy. I think I’ve bought up Mirror World’s entire stock of steel scales.

  Also, at your request I invested into some jewelry with bonuses to Alertness, Detection, Vigilance, etc. What are you going to do, go treasure hunting? Good idea. I’m all for that!

  So I suggest you check the attachment. I’m sure you’re going to like it.

  Ah, one other thing. I might be AFK for a while. The doctors are sending me to the seaside for some occupational therapy. My health isn’t what it used to be.

  Max can’t wait to join you but I told him to give it a break until it cools down a bit. I don’t want him to get killed. You understand, don’t you?

  Don’t hesitate to auction some of the petty loot. Currently there’s a steady flow of items coming from No-Man’s Lands so yours might easily go unnoticed. And keep the more interesting stuff for me, will you?

  What else did I want to tell you... Oh, yes. The updates. I suggest you study them. You might find some very useful info there.

  That’s it, man. Talk to you soon!

  We sat on the hill by the seashore, enjoying the warmth of the night, the smell of brine and the soft sounds of the tide. I was more than happy to have shed the armor and the fur coat, offering my body to the breeze.

  Good location. Calm and warm. Sheer heaven after the barren and freezing expanses of No-Man’s Lands.

  My two pets were lounging on the grass nearby, snoring away. What a bliss.

  The moment we’d crossed the border back into the lands of Light, my inbox had kicked back in, showering me with messages. However, one-liners like Where did u get that gear and I want me a pet like yours were now few and far between. Good.

  Tanor too seemed to have stopped inundating me with messages. Admittedly, it felt a bit unsettling. On the other hand, it was quite predictable.

  Nothing from my friends, either, not to mention my old friend Rrhorgus whose letter I’d just finished reading. I just hoped he didn’t have anything serious healthwise. I had big plans for him in the future.

  And as for the updates he’d mentioned... true, I’d received a whole lot of them. Some of them indeed dealt with No-Man’s Lands; one had even sparked a public outcry at forums, especially from high level players. No wonder. When did game developers ever have players’ interests in mind?

  The update had affected me too. On one hand, I could understand the players’ resentment and rooted for their cause, but on the other, I was happy as the proverbial pig.

  In a nutshell, it went like this. The update regarded the resurrection protocol. From the moment it went live, players would lose their right to set up their own resurrection points in No-Man’s Lands. Whenever they died, they were redirected to an obelisk of their choice situated on the territory of their corresponding side. Those who’d already set up their own respawn points, could only use them once.

  In other words, I could only resurrect in my secret little cave once. After that, whenever I was killed, I’d be sent back to the lands of Light.

  What could I say? At first I resented the news too. The admins’ brazen liberty-taking was annoying to say the least. They’d managed to completely undo the peace which I’d found in the knowledge of having a safe remote resurrection spot. Now I felt exposed, which admittedly drove me up the wall.

  But once I’d cooled down and given it some thought, I decided it wasn’t that important in my case. I even benefited from it in a way. Why, might you ask?

  Firstly, I didn’t have to walk. It took me minutes to fly the hundreds of miles that other players would have to travel on foot. Strangely as it might sound, I could afford to die in No-Man’s Lands only to promptly resurrect in a nice warm spot like this island because I co
uld get back in no time.

  Other players, however, would have it tough. In the case of their character’s death, they’d be back to square one, having wasted weeks of a complex and very challenging journey.

  And that was not all.

  After the update, a player wouldn’t be able to resurrect immediately anymore. He or she would be subject to a time penalty whose duration depended on the mobs’ aggro levels in the location where one had been killed.

  As an example, this island location was marked a safe green on the map. If, by any chance, I got killed here, I’d be able to respawn within an hour. But as for the unsafe “red” zones, there the duration of the time penalty could vary from twelve to twenty-four hours depending on the mobs’ aggro levels.

  The forums were absolutely seething. Surprisingly, the admins — who normally suffer players’ critique in silence — actually posted a reply, saying that they’d been forced to do so by pressure from the general public. Apparently, there had been a lot of protests from social groups condemning them for allowing people to spend weeks in VR capsules. That way at least they could take breaks from playing.

  Indeed, what was the point lying flat in a virtual coffin for twenty-four hours if you could spend that time IRL?

  The world was changing. Virtual reality had entered our lives, adapting them to suit its own demands. I had a funny feeling that Mirror World was only the first harbinger of the changes to come. New virtual projects were about to sprout up everywhere, sucking in millions of human lives.

  On one hand, having to live through such gigantic changes was admittedly exciting. On the other hand, it felt pretty scary.

  I was quite sure governments wouldn’t stop at gaming. Nothing prevented them from creating virtual prisons, mental clinics and retirement homes. Just to de-escalate social tensions in the world, you know.

  The question was, would they be able to pull it off? Difficult to say. Such forecasts rarely come true. Too many things depend on too many tiny and easily overlooked details.